


Flirtation

by SolarMorrigan



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Misunderstandings, Q is upset, assumed one-sided attraction, turns out okay though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Bond is a flirt. Q knows that. Everyone knows that. It's just hard to deal with when he really wants the flirting to be real





	Flirtation

**Author's Note:**

> Another old one. Bond's a little disrespectful, but what else is new?
> 
> Originally posted here as part of a collection, which I've deleted; if you left kudos or a comment on this fic there, please know that I've saved them to look upon and cherish (also, thank you)

“Stop, alright? You need to–! Will you just– just,” Q paused for a moment, taking a breath and lowering his voice, “ _Stop_.”

Bond turned back from his perusal of the bits and pieces of mechanical projects littering Q’s workspace. “Stop what, Quartermaster?”

“Stop  _that_.” Q insisted, hands tightening on the edge of his worktable, “The way you say my title and the way you talk to me and the way you saunter around here like you belong and… you can’t just do this. Not here.”

There was a surprising light of genuine anger in Q’s eyes and Bond cocked his head to the side, wondering how he might defuse the situation when he wasn’t entirely sure what Q was objecting to. “Why is that?”

Q’s hands were tendons and white knuckles against the desk before he loosened and let go. He released a breath and spoke more calmly, though the tension in his frame remained. “Look, I understand that when you’re in the field, it can be a coping mechanism. It’s an incredibly useful skill for you to have; necessary, even. I understand that. But I must respectfully request that you stop flirting with me, 007.” Q pursed his lips a moment and looked carefully at Bond, “I am not a mark. I am not a fellow agent. I will not be toyed with.”

Clearly strung tight and possibly ready to lash out, it might have been wise for Bond to keep his distance from Q. As wise decisions hardly seemed to get the best results, however, Bond took a few steps closer and gave Q a small, reassuring smile. “Who says I’m toying with you, Q?”

Reassured, Q was not. Something went cold and flat in his eyes as he regarded Bond. “You know, I didn’t realize you were actually this cruel.” Q stepped away and moved back to the other side of his worktable.

Bond huffed. “Look, I’m really not sure what’s got you in a strop, here. Maybe you could be less vague and just tell me.”

“You want me to say it out loud? Stroke your ego a bit more?” Q snapped.

“Christ, Q, what the hell are you on about?” Bond demanded.

“Fine! If you want to hear it so badly, fine!” Q’s voice rose again, “You know that I– have feelings for you. How could you not, it’s bloody obvious, even I realize that. But you know and you keep fucking flirting with me anyway! That is what the hell I’m on about, Bond.”

Bond was quiet for a moment, caught just a bit wrong-footed by Q’s admission. It wasn’t quite the protestation he’d thought it would be. “I thought that’s what you did when you had feelings for a person.” Bond replied at last, “Flirt with them.”

“Not when you don’t fucking reciprocate!” Q looked down at the table, gathering himself back together, “I knew complaining to HR wouldn’t do a damned thing, so I thought you might be reasonable if I just  _asked_  you to stop. Why I ever thought you’d be reasonable, I’ve no idea.”

“Why would you need to complain to HR? Q, why do you think I’m not actually interested?” Bond turned the full weight of his questioning stare on Q.

“How could you possibly be interested?” Q demanded, “What the hell do I have that interests you, beyond the ability to give you fun little toys to take on mission?”

The accusation smarted a bit, though Bond could admit it wouldn’t have been altogether out of character. “I’m not interested in you so I can get better equipment, Q.” Bond took a few steps closer, “There are other things about you to like.”

“Right, of course there are.” Q snipped, “You could so clearly be interested in some smartarse–”

“Intelligent.”

“–skinny–”

“Svelte.”

“–mouthy–”

“I do like mouthy, actually.”

“Stop it!” Q reached out and placed a hand on Bond’s chest as he came into Q’s personal space, but stopped short of actually shoving him away, “Stop, Bond! You can dress me up in all the pretty words you want, that doesn’t mean you–”

Bond closed the distance between them, wrapping one arm tightly around Q’s waist and the other around his shoulders, and Q’s voice died in his throat. His hands came up automatically to grip at Bond’s arms, squeezing so hard it hurt, but still Q didn’t push Bond away.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Q sighed like he had been defeated.

“I’m not sure how else to get you to stop yelling at me. But I like that, too, you know.” Bond absently stroked a hand up and down Q’s back, “You don’t take shit from me. You don’t let me get away with anything if you can help it.”

“Bond…”

“If there’s a way I could convince you I’m legitimately interested in you, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know.”

Q sighed, loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “Why would you be interested in me?”

“Why are you so convinced I’m not? What happened to that cocky little shit who runs Q branch?”

“I’m fucking fantastic at my job and I still know it.” Q retorted, his voice somewhat muffled as he relaxed fractionally and rested his forehead on Bond’s shoulder. “But confidence in my professional skills doesn’t equate confidence in my personal skills.”

Bond hummed and continued running his palm along the length of Q’s spine, both arms still cinching the other man tight against him. “Let me take you to dinner tonight.” He offered at last.

“I’m not sure I’m up to dinner in your world, Bond.”

“Someplace quiet and small. The best places aren’t always grand and expensive. You’ll like it, I promise.” Bond insisted.

Q was quiet for a few beats, but his body finally relaxed against Bond, giving up or giving in. “Why?” Q asked again.

Bond turned and pressed his lips to the side of Q’s head, murmuring into soft, dark hair. “I’ll tell you over dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Also posted on Tumblr!](http://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/172765385873/another-old-one-q-is-upset-and-vaguely)


End file.
